The Totally Gay Version of Jim and Pam
by monkaholic
Summary: Oscar and Andy are totally the gay version of Jim and Pam.


"We're not the gay version of Jim and Pam," Oscar said to the interviewer.

"Yeah," Andy said next to him, his hand in Oscar's. "'Cause I'm not gay."

Oscar paused, stared into the camera for an awkward moment, then turned his head to Andy. "You kind of are," he whispered in his ear.

Andy looked affronted as he twisted his body to look at Oscar full-on and said, "I am _not_ gay! I like women."

"…But you're sleeping with me."

Andy's face reddened as he took a quick glance at the camera, then met Oscar's eyes again. "Yeah. But you're just _one_ dude, not the entire dude population."

"…You have that thing for Donny Osmond."

"That's… that's not… I was just saying that he has a good set of pipes."

"Andy, we've watched _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat_ every night for the past month. And you always rewind the scenes where he's shirtless."

"Well, I don't see you complaining, do I? Look, that's not the point. The point is, you're the only dude for me. The only person for me." Andy faced the camera again as he enthusiastically proclaimed, "If anything, I'm Oscarsexual."

Had it been anyone else that had said that, Oscar probably would have sunk down in his seat and covered his face in shame over the fact that he actually knew the lunatic sitting next to him. But, because Andy was the one saying those words, Oscar felt a swelling of affection in his heart and he squeezed Andy's hand.

_1 Year Ago_

Oscar stumbled into his hotel room, still giggling over something that he couldn't even remember. It had been a surprising night. He hadn't laughed that much since… god, he didn't even know. Ever, probably. There was just something about Andy… something that made him relax around him. Or maybe that had been the who knows how many Long Island iced teas. But he was pretty certain that Andy was at least 50 percent responsible for making Oscar feel like Oscar. He hadn't even known that he wasn't feeling like Oscar until Andy came along and made him feel like Oscar. It was weird, but… good. He briefly wondered if Andy ever made Angela feel like Angela, then he groaned and fell into his bed without even bothering to take his shoes off.

When Oscar closed his eyes, he saw a quick flash of himself softly pushing the hair off of Andy's forehead, Andy's eyes staring back at him with all the innocence in the world, and maybe with a little anticipation. Oscar sighed heavily and concluded that he was way too drunk to be thinking.

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They had promised to hang out together once they got back to Scranton. He knew that Andy had meant it, and Oscar felt a little guilty for only half-heartedly agreeing. It wasn't that he didn't want to be around Andy, it was just that he was afraid that the magic would be gone once they got back home and fell into their old routines. He had expected everything to go back to normal. He had expected to forget that he didn't feel like Oscar unless he was around Andy. But that was the thing. He couldn't forget, and a part of him really didn't want to.

On their first day back, Andy held up his end of the promise by sauntering up to Oscar's desk with his hands in pockets and saying a little hesitantly, "Hey."

Oscar was so used to Andy's daily visits with Angela that it kind of surprised him when he looked up and saw that Angela wasn't there. Oscar felt a little thrill run through him when he realized that Andy was there just for him. That thrill spoke of implications that Oscar didn't want examine. Ever. Oscar took a shaky breath as he turned and said, "Hey, Andy."

"I've got some world class Swedish meatballs with your name on them."

Oscar heard Kevin's unmistakable giggle behind him, and Oscar had to admit that the sentence gave him pause, but he knew that Andy wasn't quite that talented at sexual innuendos, so he just responded with "Huh?"

The giant grin on Andy's face faltered a little, and he said, not quite as confidently, "I… I made Swedish meatballs last night. My mother's recipe. I thought we could eat them together. Today. For lunch."

"I like Swedish meatballs," Kevin said excitedly.

Andy looked a little panicked, so Oscar rose from his seat and put his arm around Andy's shoulders as he said, "I'd love to taste your Swedish meatballs, Andy," and he ushered Andy off into the break room while Kevin was too busy giggling to notice that they had gone.

_Present Day_

"The gay version of us?" Jim asked, half amused, half disbelieving as he held Pam's hand. He gave her a quick glance, then looked back at the camera as he said, "Does that mean I'm Oscar?"

"Oh, no way, I am _not_ Andy!"

"Are you sure? Because I _have_ caught you singing Sting songs in the shower."

Pam's face reddened as she looked at the camera and shook her head, then she glared back at Jim. This only encouraged him.

"And, let's not forgot the time that you threw a sock at me when I beat you in Wii Tennis."

"What?"

"We really should send you to anger management class."

"It's not my fault that your constitution is so frail that you're knocked over by a sock."

"Ouch."

Pam looked back at the camera and said, "He's already the gay version of Jim."

"Guilty."

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"I'm supposed to be Jim?" Oscar asked incredulously. "No, no. If I have to be compared to either one of them, then I'm definitely Pam."

"What's wrong with Tuna?"

"He's… he's just so… I don't like him, okay? There, I said it."

"Uh… _why_? Tuna is like… the coolest fish in the sea."

"Then you can be Jim."

"Great!"

"Great." Oscar always kind of suspected that Andy was a little bit in love with Jim, but that definitely wasn't the reason why Oscar didn't like him.

"No, wait," Andy said after a long moment of what Oscar suspected was introspection. "We're not Jim and Pam. We're Oscar and Andy." He turned to Oscar and looked into his eyes with complete sincerity as he softly repeated, "We're Oscar and Andy."

"Oscar and Andy," Oscar nodded.

---------------------------

"They're right," Jim said.

"Besides, if anyone's a gay version of us, it's definitely Michael and Ryan."

"Oh, definitely."

_9 Months Ago_

The more he saw Andy and Angela planning their wedding, the more bitter Oscar got. He didn't have an explanation for the bitterness. He knew that Andy wanted to marry Angela, and if that would make Andy happy, then Oscar supported it. But despite Andy's bravado over his love for Angela, Oscar knew that Angela would make Andy's life a living hell. In fact, Oscar was pretty sure that she was _already_ making Andy's life a living hell. Oscar tried to talk to him about it once, but Andy had blown up at him. Oscar was certain that Andy didn't love Angela. Not really. He loved the _idea_ of her more than the woman herself (honestly, how could _anyone_ love that woman?) Oscar was determined to get through to him somehow.

He thought he saw an opportunity when Andy invited him to one of his Frolf tournaments. Apparently Angela had called the sport sacrilege and she refused to encourage Andy's participation in it, but Frolf was the one thing that Andy wasn't willing to give up for her. Watching overly eager 35 year old frat boys throwing Frisbees into metal baskets wasn't exactly Oscar's idea of a relaxing Sunday afternoon, but Oscar was willing to do anything in order to support even the tiniest of rebellions against Angela. However, when Oscar saw the genuine happiness in Andy's face as he won the second place trophy, and the pride in Andy's voice when he introduced Oscar to all of his frat buddies, Oscar couldn't bring himself to ruin the moment by bringing up Angela. And, although Oscar loathed to admit it, he was a little giddy over the fact that Andy had possessively thrown his arm around Oscar's shoulders after Gay Rob had hit on him within earshot of Andy.

_Present Day_

Angela glared at the camera in her usual way as she said, "If they want to live in sin, they're welcome to."

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Stanley sighed at the camera and wondered why the _hell_ they dragged him into this room every damn day to ask him stupid question after even stupider question. All he wanted to _do_ was finish his damn work and go _home_.

_6 Months Ago_

After Phyllis told the entire office that Angela was sleeping with Dwight, a perverted part of Oscar was happy. It would only be a matter of time until Angela's web of lies finally choked her to death, and Oscar would revel in it. But whenever he saw Andy's bright face, still unmarred by the cynicism that plagued everyone that Oscar knew, his heart broke a little. Angela was going to take that innocence away from Andy, and Oscar had never resented her more than he did in that moment.

In the back of Oscar's mind, he realized that he should have been the one to tell Andy. Oscar found it hard to admit, but Andy was sort of becoming his best friend, and best friends were supposed to tell each other about that stuff. But Oscar just couldn't do that to Andy. He couldn't. And if he was honest, he wanted Andy to figure it out for himself. Oscar stupidly had faith that Andy wasn't as oblivious as he appeared to be.

When Andy did find out (not on his own, of course), Oscar found him slumped down on a bench by the elevator in the lobby, his head in his hands. Oscar sat down next to him and hesitantly put his hand on his shoulder in a pitiful attempt at comfort. Andy wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket and then looked up at Oscar, a fire in his eyes that made Oscar withdraw his hand and scoot away from Andy a little.

"How could you not tell me?"

"I…"

"After all our lunches! Our _America's Next Top Model_ nights! The Barry _Manilow_ concert special on PBS! The… god, I shared my _meatballs_ with you!"

"Andy, I—"

"No! No, save it. I get it. You weren't really being my friend, you just didn't know how to get rid of me. Well, _congratulations_, I'm gone." Andy shot up from the bench and crashed through the doors, presumably stomping his way to his car.

Oscar was frozen. He wanted to go after Andy, to tell him that he was probably the greatest friend he's ever had, that nothing brings him as much joy as sharing a bowl of popcorn with him while they watch model wannabes have insane emotional breakdowns, but for some reason, Oscar couldn't move. Paralyzed with guilt, perhaps, if he was prone to being dramatic. But more than that, Oscar was afraid. He didn't like realizing that his happiness rested so wholly in one person. Even worse, in _Andy_. He wasn't supposed to love Andy. He wasn't even supposed to like him. He was annoyingly obtuse, he often burst into song at the most inappropriate of moments, and he tried way too hard to please people, to the point where he was insufferable. And yet… he was Andy. It somehow worked for him. And even as Oscar sat there thinking about Andy at his worst, it made him smile.

He wanted to go after Andy. He should have gone after Andy. But he didn't.

_Present Day_

"I admit that there were… _moments_ when I wondered about Andy," Dwight said. "But hunting trips will inevitably bring about homoerotic subtext between two men. It goes back to the ancient Greeks. Everything they did carried homoerotic subtext. Including hunting."

_4 Months Ago_

So, maybe Oscar was a little jealous of Andy's newfound friendship with Dwight. And maybe he lingered a little too long in the break room while Andy tuned his banjo as he completely ignored Oscar's presence. And maybe he resented the new receptionist a little bit for catching Andy's eye.

Oscar missed Andy so completely that he even drank extra coffee just so that he could have an excuse to pass by Andy's desk on his way to the bathroom. Each time he caught a glimpse of Andy, he would catch the way his body stiffened, the way he pursed his lips and stared determinedly at his computer screen. Oscar found a little comfort in this. If he was still affecting Andy, then that meant that he still cared. And, Oscar ridiculously hoped, maybe he even missed Oscar as much as Oscar missed him.

When Oscar heard that Andy was going on a weekend long hunting trip with Dwight, something in him snapped. He knew it was petty, but he hated that Dwight got to go away to a remote spot for a weekend with Andy after one month of friendship, while Andy and Oscar never went further than Ithaca for a Here Comes Treble reunion after 6 months of friendship. It made Oscar wonder if Dwight made Andy feel like Andy, and that possibility killed Oscar's soul a little. So he went to Andy's house. On _America's Next Top Model_ night. And when Andy opened the door, Oscar could hear Dwight's voice yelling to Andy about the dangers of high heels. Oscar closed his eyes as a stabbing pain ran through his chest.

"Oscar?" Andy asked, the surprise evident in his voice.

Oscar sighed and opened his eyes, trying to smile. "Hey, Andy." Oscar gave him a little wave and then felt completely ridiculous.

He thought he saw Andy start to smile, but then his face hardened and he crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

"I… It's _Top Model_ night." Oscar's hands were sweating. Why were his hands sweating?

"Uh, I know. I'm watching it right now."

"Yeah… of course, of course. I just thought… you know, we could watch it together?"

Andy's eyes brightened just a touch, and a small smile formed on his lips as he said, "That… I'd like that. Except I already invited Dwight. It's sort of our thing now."

"Yeah. I figured." Oscar hoped that the droop in his shoulders wasn't all that noticeable to Andy.

"You could join us?"

"No, that's okay."

"Oh…" Andy said, a little sadly. Or maybe Oscar just hoped that he had said it sadly.

Oscar turned to leave, but then he stopped. "Andy?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go on the trip with Dwight."

"What?"

Oscar turned back around to face Andy, and stepped close enough to him that he could feel Andy's breath on his skin. "Don't go with Dwight," he said softly.

Andy looked a little bewildered, but he was calm as he asked, "Why?"

Oscar felt like his entire future was resting in his answer to that why, so he took a deep breath, looked Andy straight in the eye and said, "Because you make me feel like me. No one else can do that, Andy, and that's got to mean something."

"I… thanks?" Did Oscar mention that Andy was annoyingly obtuse?

Oscar growled under his breath, then he put both of his hands on Andy's cheeks and drew his face to him, their noses within inches of touching. "Andy. Look at me."

"I'm looking! Kinda hard to look at anything else right now."

"Good. Andy… you're my best friend. I love you. Don't go on that trip with Dwight."

After a long pause, Oscar let go of Andy's face and stepped back. A stupid (yet somehow adorable) smile came over Andy's face as he said, "I'm your best friend?"

"That… yes, but, the important part was that I love you."

Andy smacked him on the shoulder and said, "Thanks man, I love you, too."

Oscar nodded, his shoulder burning where Andy's hand still laid, his fingers giving Oscar's shoulder a friendly squeeze every few seconds. They just looked at each other in silence, both reveling in the feel of their completeness again. And then Oscar caught Andy's eyes dart down to Oscar's lips, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Every part of him tingled as his own eyes were drawn to Andy's lips. He felt Andy tug on his shoulder, bringing him closer, and slowly the distance between their lips was nonexistent.

The kiss was a little awkward at first, slow, tender, surprising, and so very right. It somehow encompassed their entire friendship. When they pulled apart, suddenly all of Oscar's fears returned, especially as he looked into Andy's eyes and saw the very same fears reflected back at him. They said an awkward goodbye, and as Oscar drove off, he could still feel the warmth of Andy's lips on his.

Oscar wasn't surprised when Andy ended up going on the hunting trip with Dwight.

_Present Day_

"Wait… Oscar and Andy are dating?" Michael asked. "Huh… Out of all the guys in the office, Oscar chose to go after _Andy_? Really? I would have gone after Ryan."

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"I'm not surprised," Ryan said. "Andy made a pass at me once."

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"I totally did not!" Andy shouted.

"Ryan Howard?" Oscar asked incredulously. "You made a pass at Ryan _Howard_? Really, Andy."

"No, I swear I didn't! I was just reaching around him to get the cream for the coffee and… I happened to notice that his eyes were really blue. Like, _really_ blue."

"Yeah, his eyes are pretty blue," Oscar said a little wistfully.

"Yes, _exactly_! That's what I'm saying!"

_3 Months Ago_

When Oscar was fairly certain that placing all of his romantic dreams on Andy was a lost cause, Oscar agreed to go on a blind date set up by Kelly. Normally he would have said no, but Kelly wouldn't leave him alone. And, Kelly being Kelly, she refused to tell Oscar anything about his date other than that he was "awesome." She said that keeping it mysterious was more romantic. For Oscar, it was just more annoying. So, now he was sitting alone in a booth at Chili's waiting for someone awesome to walk through the door.

At half past seven, all the lights suddenly shut off and the restaurant went quiet. For a minute Oscar thought it was a blackout, but then the bartender turned on a big flashlight and pointed it toward the door as a melody came on over the loudspeakers. And there, looking sharper than ever, was Andy in a tuxedo. Holding a microphone. As he started singing the lyrics to Barry Manilow's "Can't Smile Without You," slowly making his way towards Oscar's table.

For most of Oscar's adult life, he had thought that romance was dead. But as he sat there watching Andy making a complete fool of himself all for Oscar's sake, he knew that as long as Andy was around, romance would never have to be just a dream anymore.

_Present Day_

"So, if Andy's Oscarsexual, does that mean that he has an Oscar the Grouch fetish?" Jim asked the camera.

"Or Oscar Wilde?" Pam asked.

"Or Oscar de la Renta?"

Or, ooo, Oscar de la Hoya!"

-----------------------

"I _do_ kind of have a thing for Oscar de la Hoya, yeah."


End file.
